I Hate You, Love
by HeAteMyHeartOut
Summary: The beginnings of Tazim and Darim's relationship is starting to grow. Altair and Malik can't help to think that it's much like their own. OneShot. Slash.


So I figured Tazim and Darim deserve a story since there are so little of them out there. Although this was actually typed before I knew them very well, I just kept it in my computer. As you can see I typed up the rest of it and decided to slap it on fanfiction. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

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Of course he didn't like him. It was as if it was a necessity, or maybe genetic. It could have been just the way they met, or the way he looked at him. It could be the way his hair was, or what he wore. It could even have been the way he walked, or talked, his eyes, or his mouth – Yeah, it had to be the way he looked at him.

Most of the time their conversation consisted of nothing but insults, and name-calling until someone stopped them, or one of them backed down. They were rarely put up against each other when they trained because each match against each other would be filled with nothing but tension, and intense hate. Both of them were determined to get the better of the other, and at one point ended in a fatal blow. Nope. There was no chance in the world, that they could even consider being friends, they were enemies. It was _suppose_ to stay that way.

"_What_?" Darim stared blankly at his father.

"I do not wish to repeat myself Darim. Act like you have some sense when they arrive. I have something important I need to discuss with Malik."

A simple explanation and Altair was gone, his robe whisking around the corner, leaving his son to stare behind him. It wasn't even a few moments of silence before he heard his father greeting Malik in the other room. Darim glared in the hallway anticipating his greatest enemy to come padding through. How dare he step foot into his home without his consent. – Not that he had absolute control over who came and left the house, in fact he had no control what so ever. He was told what he could and could not do. - Still Darim felt as if some unknown organism came bursting into his home without invitation, and would abduct his family. He was full of so much rage that when Sef quietly entered the room he flinched, and the beginning of tears formed in his eyes. Darim's expression softened at this, and he apologized. Sef stared at him for a moment before deciding to enter the room, rubbing lightly at his eyes.

He had been napping in the next room, and was most likely just woken up by Maria. Sef never liked to be woken up when he napped. He'd make a small aggravated noise in the back of his throat, or lightly fist the cloths of whoever woke him up. Darim would usually just lift him from his bed if he was told to wake him up, but there had been times where he would tap him, and wait to see if he would stay up on his own. It failed.

The soft padding of footsteps broke Darim's thoughts and he tensed. In that same second he locked eyes with his greatest enemy. It was almost as if time stopped, but moved quickly at the same time. He almost snarled.

"Darim."

His name sounded as if someone was scrapping their finger nails across a chalkboard.

"Tazim."

He could have bit his tongue for speaking that name. There was a long silence between them, but their eyes would not meet. Even Sef who now sat in cushions on the far end of the room had to blink at the silence. It seemed to go on forever until Tazim began to speak.

"I will not be here long. My father has business with yours."

"Good."

There was more silence between them. After a moment Sef, noting the tension, uncomfortably shuffled out the room. Darim watched his brother leave the room, and sighed lightly. Tazim and Darim have been like this ever since they met. Darim wasn't even too sure on why there was rivalry between them. It was starting not to make any sense to him as he aged. Now he was beginning to see how ridiculous it was, but every time he heard Tazim's name he would tense, and feel this deep... _hate?_.. for him. He wasn't even completely sure on how to describe it.

"May I sit?"

Darim looked at Tazim. Actually looked at him. He didn't have the same intense look he had earlier. Darim furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes."

Tazim stared at him for a moment almost shocked at his answer. His eyes didn't leave his, as he sat in a bunch of pillows. Darim sat not to far away from him, still feeling as if he turned his back he would be attacked.

"Why would I attack you? We are on the same side Darim."

"I do not trust you."

It was a lie. Darim knew that he really did trust Tazim with his life, but why was it so different when it was just them?

"Your lieing."

"Why would I lie?"

"Training. There has been countless times you let you guard down, and leave yourself open. In between, and during our match. In the library, during our teachings, you always turn your back to me."

Well shit...

"Anyone could witness in places such as those."

"Yes, and there's absolutely no one in your home right now Darim. In fact, the master and his wife doesn't even stay here they live in Damascus," Tazim laced his voice, and facial expression in sarcasm.

Darim scowled, standing on his feet.

"There have been plenty that betrayed the brotherhood."

Tazim, in turn, stood to his feet with his eyes narrowed.

"And you are suggesting that I would?"

"I'm saying that it could be possible."

"So what are you? Some physic that could tell me what I would or wouldn't do in the future?"

"You should know. You've probably been doing some sorcery of your own."

"Now you sound like an idiot. I'm not surprised."

"I think it's time for you to take your leave."

"I will leave when my father's ready."

"Leave. _Now._ Tazim."

"I won't."

Finishing his sentence, Tazim saw the blur of Darim's fist. His mind screamed at him to react but it was so hard to do, and he didn't know why. Thankfully, it wasn't aimed to hurt him. His first stopped at his chest balling up the cloth there.

It was a few long solid minutes of silence, and staring that confused Tazim. Several emotions played on Darim's face. It happened so quick that he couldn't exactly guess them when they came. It was one of the many things that vexed him about Darim. He was so hard to understand sometimes, but.. he didn't care.

Tazim was too lost in his thoughts for that moment to notice Darim bring his right fist up, and collide it with his jaw. He was shocked, and taken back, but not long enough to grab onto his wrist, and pull him forward. Tazim shifted to the right as Darim stumbled forward, and crashed to the ground.

Unfortunately he wasn't quick enough to evade the foot that swiped hard on his left. Once he landed on the floor, he narrowly blocked another fist with all intentions of colliding with his face again.

"Darim, Stop! We can't do this now!"

Darim wasn't listening. Instead he answered with a continuous barrage of punches. He.. _hated.._ Tazim. What the _fuck_ was he doing to him? He couldn't even think straight. He just wanted him out, or to just just leave him alone for the rest of his life. He really didn't know.. just.. _something._

"Darim!"

Darim finally stopped everything all together. He was only dimly aware when he'd been flipped with his back to the floor, and Tazim straddling his waist. He'd also managed to grab both his wrist and pin them above his head. Darim turned his head to the side and refused to meet his gaze.

"Save it for the training grounds. This isn't the time," Tazim scowled down at him.

"I don't give a damn," Darim growled.

He bucked trying to throw Tazim off, but immediately stopped after the first time. It was as if he almost deflated, and his anger was dropped that very second. This time he looked Tazim, actually looking at him for the second time that day. Darim's heart sank.

"What?" Tazim was shocked, he watched Darim's rage diminish in half a second, as if it was never there. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Darim finally understood, and he was scared. Scared shitless. How could?-.. And it's.. Tazim! He summoned up a good bit of strength, and pushed Tazim completely off of him. Before Tazim could completely register what happened, Darim was out the door.

Altair watched his son walk out the door in his peripheral vision. Downing a bit of his drink, he glanced at Malik, who was smirking. He set his glass down, and a small smile crept on his face.

"This may be a repeat with our sons," Altair's smile widened.

"So it seems."


End file.
